Gena Showalter - Intertwined 02 (7 page)

“A knife through the heart. The other, the timing…that, he doesn't know. Only that it will be soon, like I told you.”

Soon. What was soon, though? A day? A week? A year? And a knife through the freaking heart? Dear God. An even worse way to die than from the
je la nune.
He really did need tough vampire skin.

Why hadn't he told her?

“Why can't you turn him?”

“Attempts were made to turn humans in the past. None were successful.”

“Can't we—?”

“Stop it from happening, now that we know about it?” Victoria laughed without any trace of humor. “No. Apparently, that will only make things worse for him. He told me that stopping a death, once it's been predicted, does not change the outcome, only the way that outcome is achieved. And when changed, that outcome becomes far more excruciating.”

Aden. Dead. Soon. No! Tears burned her eyes, stinging down her cheeks. “How does he live with that knowledge?”
Don't talk like that. Something can be done. Surely
.

“I don't know. But I don't think I could. He is human, yet he is stronger than I will ever be.” She traced
something over his heart, but Mary Ann was too far away to tell what that something was. If she were guessing, though, she would say it was the same thing Victoria had traced on the tabletop in the cafeteria.

“And you're sure you can't make him a vampire?” There
had
to be a way to save him.

“I am sure. Our blood is…different than yours and in large doses, which would be required to turn someone, it drives humans to insanity and death. Sometimes the vampire trying to do the turning dies, as well, though no one knows why.”

No way Aden would risk Victoria's life. That she knew. “How did you become vampire, then?” The question emerged broken, hoarse.

“I was born this way. My father was the first to change, you see. He was a blood-drinker, even as a human, and slowly found himself changing. His skin thickening, his hunger for everything else fading away. His body no longer aging. He had his most trusted men and their females drink blood, like him, and they, too, changed. He then had his beloved pets, the wolves, drink. They changed, as well, though they became vicious. It is their offspring, like Riley, that you see now, able to shift into human form.”

“Why can't Aden drink
that
blood? What your father and his people drank?”

“He drank from people, Mary Ann, and those people are long gone. Dust in the grave.”

“But if
Aden
drank from people…maybe…”

“That, too, has been tried. That, too, has failed.”

So that was it? They were supposed to give up and watch Aden die?
Soon?
No. Absolutely not. She refused. There had to be a way to save him, she thought again.
Please let there be a way to save him.

Suddenly Riley strode from the closet, wiping his hands together and claiming their attention. He was fully dressed now. His clothes were wrinkled, torn and bloodstained, and there were streaks of dirt on his face and arms.

“It's done,” he said, and there was no emotion in his voice. “No one will know a prince was killed in Aden's home.” His gaze raked Mary Ann, ensuring she was okay, before moving to Aden and Victoria. “How is he?”

“Better.”

As if he'd heard the question, Aden moaned.

Both Mary Ann and Riley stilled before rushing to the bed and crouching beside him. Mary Ann latched onto his hand and squeezed.

Victoria rose over him, on her knees, and patted his cheeks. “Can you hear us, Aden?”

Slowly he blinked open his eyes. There was a collective intake of breath as they waited…waited… He
focused, though his multicolored irises, a mix of brown, blue and green, were glassy.

“Victoria?” he asked groggily.

“I'm here. How are you? Is there anything I can get you?”

He frowned, his head tilting to the side. He blinked again, and his frown deepened. Then he shocked everyone by snarling, “No!” grabbing Victoria by the shoulders and throwing her behind him as he popped to his knees. “Don't you dare touch her!”

Startled, Mary Ann followed the line of his gaze. She saw…no one. “Aden?”

“How are you still alive?” he demanded. “Riley killed you. I felt you die!”

“Aden?” Victoria approached him again and curled her fingers around his forearms, urging him down. “Who are you talking to?”

“The prince.” He remained where he was, balled his fists and raised them, ready to strike. “The prince who had better be leaving.”

“He's
here?
” Riley demanded.

“Yes.”

“But that's impossible. I mean
really
impossible. I just buried him.”

B
URIED HIM
.

The words penetrated the fog drifting through Aden's head, and he rubbed his face with a shaky hand. Not happening. This was so not happening.

Buried him
.

He once again maneuvered Victoria behind him, but Thomas continually reached through him, trying to touch her. No, not just touch her. Kill her. There was hate in the fairy's eyes. Only good news was Thomas's hand ghosted through Aden
and
Victoria, every try.

Riley had already grabbed Mary Ann and pushed her against the wall, his body covering hers like a shield. His predator's gaze circled the bedroom, searching, his body waiting to act.

Buried him
.

Plausible, because Aden had taken a death-blow for him. He shuddered, remembering. The pain… He'd never experienced anything like it. In fact, there wasn't
a word to describe it.
Excruciating
was like a gentle massage in comparison.

And that's how
Aden
was going to die.

Which meant he would have to experience that again. Chest ripping open, organ tearing, blood spilling. The cold consuming him, turning his bones to brittle ice. No. No, no, no. He refused. No one should have to endure that kind of death. And twice? Not just no, but hell, no. He'd think of something,
do
something, anything, to prevent it.

Yeah, he'd tried to save people in the past, hoping to circumvent the deaths Elijah had shown him. And yeah, they'd then died in other, more painful ways. But to Aden, there was nothing more painful than a knife through the heart. He'd take anything else. In a heartbeat. Stupid pun intended.

“Why can't I touch her?” Thomas snarled.

“Back off. Or—” What kind of threat would scare a fairy? “Or you'll regret it.” Not the best, but all his foggy brain could come up with.

Finally, panting and skin glistening with sweat, the prince stilled. “What did you do to me?”

Good question. “Just leave her alone.” Slowly, Aden moved from the bed…his legs had better cooperate…yes! He remained standing, arms splayed to block any new attempt. “In fact, just leave.”

He stiffened as a thought occurred to him.
Make you
pay for this, even from the grave,
Thomas had said before the knife plunged. Pay. Grave.
Grave
. Oh…crap. Had Aden earned himself a vengeful fairy-slash-ghost-slash-sidekick?

“Aden. What's going on?” Victoria demanded, as the prince shouted, “I can't! I tried.” She moved in front of Aden before he could stop her, ready to fight his demons for him. “Tell me what to do, and it's done.”

“Victoria,” he said. He couldn't stand the thought of her hurt. And despite everything, this could be a trick. What did Aden know about fairies and their afterlife? Thomas could be waiting for the right time to strike. For real.

“There's no one here, Aden. Just us. The prince is dead. Riley buried the body, like he told you. Yet you see him still?”

“Yes. But you can't see him? Can't hear him?”

A chorus of “No” rang out.

So. No one but Aden could see or hear Thomas, and Thomas couldn't touch anyone. Maybe this wasn't a trick, then. Besides, Thomas wanted Victoria and all of her family dead—enough to die himself—and wouldn't have waited for the right time to strike. He would have simply struck. Aden should have considered that before.

The prince really was a ghost.

At least you didn't suck him into your head,
Julian offered helpfully.

Dude,
Caleb said.
Like that's a silver lining.

The souls had been quiet ever since he'd taken that knife to the chest. Hearing them now, as if nothing had happened, was both a relief and a curse. They were alive and well, but he didn't need the distraction right now.

Thomas was here to haunt him.

Sickness churned in his stomach, threatening to revolt. He'd encountered ghosts before. Hell, the souls inside him were ghosts without bodies. And yeah, he now knew Thomas couldn't hurt Victoria, but that didn't lessen his concern. This ghost wasn't simply a deceased human. No telling what Thomas would be able to do.

“Leave,” he said to Victoria. He latched onto her arm and spun her around, then flattened his hand on her lower back and urged her forward, toward Riley.

“Wh-what?” She was so shocked by his words and actions, he knew, she offered no resistance.

“You have to leave.” Not once did he remove his gaze from Thomas. Just in case.

“I don't understand.”

“You, too, Riley. Take Victoria and go.” He wanted to explain, but didn't want Thomas to hear that Mary Ann blocked supernatural abilities, just in case other fairies were able to see and hear him. He didn't want the fairies to know that she even blocked Aden's. That, when she was around, he didn't hear voices. That he didn't see ghosts or wake the dead. Except when Riley was with
her. Somehow, Riley muted her ability to, well, mute. One day he'd figure out how. Until then… “For God's sake, go!”

Riley frowned but nodded. “Yes, my king. I'll keep both girls safe.”

“I thought I told you not to call me that.” Aden was no one's king. “And Mary Ann needs to stay.”

“No.” Green eyes narrowed on him. “Mary Ann goes with me, and that's final.”

An argument? Now? For once, he would have preferred the reverence. “Actually, Mary Ann stays. That's an order.”

Her dark head peeked from behind Riley's shoulder. She made a slashing motion over her throat, silently telling him not to go there. Thomas watched, gauging. Deciding what next to do?

There was a pause, heavy and tension-filled. Finally, Riley growled, “Yes.
My king
. All shall be as you
order
.”

Aden pressed his lips together to stop his retort. He was getting what he wanted; he could let the sarcasm slide.

“Aden?” Victoria said, and he could hear the question—
why are you doing this?
—in her musical voice. Worse, he could hear the hurt.

He suddenly hated himself. She'd endured enough hurt lately, and he didn't like adding to the mix.

Don't be so harsh with her, Aden,
Caleb scolded him.
You know I only want to show her a good time
.

A good time. Yeah. That's all Aden wanted to show her, too. Always. She'd spent her life obeying one rule after another, sheltered, not really allowed to laugh, yet here he was, pushing her away without explanation.

Moment they were safe, he'd tell her why. And then he'd tease her until she laughed. He'd only heard her laugh once, and still dreamed of hearing that tinkling sound again.

Please don't tell me you're listening to Caleb now,
Julian snapped.
We've got work to do.

Yeah. Sexy work.

You are such a pervert.

Boys
. Elijah sighed.
Is arguing necessary? Now?

Looked like Elijah had taken over the role of mother hen now that Eve was gone.

“Aden,” Victoria repeated, drawing him back to the present.

He ground his teeth, irritated with himself. His concentration sucked, even in times of great danger. “Call me later,” was all he said, still unwilling to explain while Thomas could hear.

“I'll do more than that. I'll return for you this evening.” Victoria grabbed Riley's hand before the wolf
could protest. “My family wishes to meet you, and
their
wishes are not something you can ignore.”

With that, the two were gone.

A second later, Thomas vanished, as well. A second after that, the souls inside of Aden gasped, as they always did when Mary Ann muted them, fading from his mind, falling into the black hole they'd once told him about.

They despised that black hole, but they didn't complain. They loved Aden. They wanted him happy, and they knew these private moments were necessary.

As necessary as letting them go, he thought, guilty again.

Aden sank to the ground, his back sliding against the wall. Yeah, he was going to have to set them free, no matter how much he might want to keep them. First, though, he had to figure out exactly who they had been as humans. Then he had to help them finish whatever was keeping them bound to the earth. To him.

That's how he'd lost Eve. Once he'd given her what her human self had wanted most—a day with her daughter—she had disappeared in a snap.

So much to do, he thought.
Overwhelming
. First up, it seemed, was meeting Victoria's family. The sisters he'd already seen in that vision. Laurel and…no, that wasn't right. He wracked his brain. Their names remained just out of reach.

“Is the fairy…” Mary Ann began.

“Yeah. He's gone.” But most likely, Thomas would return the moment Mary Ann left the ranch. What would Aden do then? He couldn't keep her here all day and all night.

“Good. Now don't take this the wrong way, okay?” She walked to the bed and threw herself on the mattress, bouncing up and down. “But you really need a shower.”

He glanced down at himself, heat blooming in his cheeks. Streaks of blood decorated his chest, and sweat had dried his boxers to his skin. “The bathroom is down the hall. Will you stay here? I'll hurry.”

“I'll stay,” she said with an impish grin. “Now, less talking and more showering.”

As weak as he was, he had to use the wall to unfold from the floor and stand. And while digging through the closet for clothes, he fought wave after wave of dizziness. Finally, though, he was in the bathroom, having managed to stalk down the hall without running into any of the other boys, hot water streaming down his body, cleaning him inside and out.

His first private shower, he mused. He wondered how far Mary Ann's ability stretched—and he wished he could enjoy the solitude more. Yeah,
really
enjoy it. Instead, he had to hurry as promised.

When he finished, he dressed in a T-shirt and jeans and headed back to his bedroom. Just before he reached
the door, the scent of peanut butter sandwiches drew him into the kitchen. There was a tray piled high with them, but no boys in sight. They should be here, studying.

You killed their teacher, remember?

Sad and guilty once again, Aden confiscated two of the sandwiches, eating each in two bites, and searched the rest of the bunkhouse. All the chores were done, so the boys
had
been here. The wood floors were polished, the oak table and scuffed chairs dusted. The walls were scrubbed clean and smelled of soap.

A few months ago, those walls had been filled with horseshoes and pictures of the ranch as it used to be a hundred or so years ago when it had first been built. But then two of the boys had gotten in a fight, and one of them had used a metal horseshoe to bash up the other. Or so Aden had heard. Dan, the owner of the ranch and the guy in charge of their care, had taken everything down.

There was no sign of the boys anywhere. Were they okay? Where had—

Laughter suddenly rang out.

At the far window in the entryway, he brushed the curtains aside and looked out. An overcast sky fashioned a gray canopy over the D and M as the boys played football in the field between the main house and the bunkhouse.

Aden experienced a momentary pang of jealousy.
Once, that's all he'd craved. Friends, games. Acceptance. Now he finally had it, for the most part, but he also had a little too much on his plate to enjoy it.

“You're gonna get into trouble,” he told them, even though they couldn't hear him. Dan wasn't here—his truck was gone—but Meg, his wife, rarely left the main house, and she would report what had gone on.

But no tutor, no studies, Aden supposed, and his guilt increased. Dan was going to have to find a new tutor, having no idea why Mr. Thomas had “left” as suddenly as he'd appeared.

Aden liked Dan. Respected him. A lot. The man was honorable and truly wanted to give the boys here a better life. Yet time and time again, Aden made
his
life more difficult.
Don't think about that now.

Back in his bedroom, Aden found that Mary Ann was still on the bed, though she was propped against the headboard and reading one of Shannon's books. The door clicked shut behind him—no lock, though, since Dan had removed them—and she looked up.

“Much better,” she said with a nod.

“Thanks for staying.”

“My pleasure.” She set the book aside and straightened. “How are you feeling?”

“As good as I smell.”

She laughed exactly like he wanted Victoria to laugh. “That good, huh?”

“Sorry you had to stick around.”

“I didn't mind. I wanted to talk to you about something, anyway.”

He sat at the desk, marveling that the room was perfect, nothing out of place. After Riley and Thomas had ravaged the entire building in that other dimension—which still freaked him out—he'd expected
some
sign of what had happened. Yet there was nothing. Not even a speck of blood.

“Are you listening to me?” Mary Ann asked with another laugh. “I thought the souls were quiet when I was with you.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. I'm so used to being inside my head, I often get lost in there.”

“Well, I was saying that you know how to fight.”

“Yeah.” He should. He'd been fighting his entire life. Other mental patients, doctors, other foster kids. Zombies that Julian, the corpse whisperer, raised from eternal slumber.

“Well,” Mary Ann said, squaring her shoulders. “I want you to teach me.”

He arched a brow, not sure he understood. “You want me to teach you how to kick as—uh, how to fight?”

“How to defend myself and how to attack, yes.”